


Painting Over The Cracks

by phalangine



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M, Parties, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 06:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: Jim and Bones reserve a house on the beach to hang out in during summer break from the Academy. When they get there, they find out they aren't the only ones with a reservation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so, this requires imagining that the _narada_ incident happened earlier in jim and bones’ time at the academy and that jaylah has always been around. also, this was just supposed to be a little fic about jim and bones dicking around with spock and uhura, which it looks like i didn’t quite manage.

 

Jim is the first to hop out of the car.

"Come on, Bones!" he shouts, waving for his friend to follow. "Let’s check this place out."

Bones grumbles something under his breath, but Jim hears the passenger door open and shut behind him as he bounds up the beach house's front steps. Typical Bones.

Jim has been looking forward to spring break almost from the start of last semester. He got in fast and managed to book a house with a private beach for the entire break, and, by some miracle, he managed to convince Bones that going with him would be better than staying at the Academy. It's going to be three weeks of sun, parties, drinking, and zero responsibility. Starfleet has been running them both ragged, and while Jim has captaining the _Enterprise_ to look forward to, Bones has been running on nothing but spite and bad coffee for the last few months. The perpetual lines in his face have been getting deeper, his usual grouchiness has ratcheted up, and empty bottles have been stacking up in the room.

This vacation is going to change that, though. A little sun, a little action, and Bones will be right as rain.

The door isn't locked when Jim gets tired of waiting for Bones to bring him the keys and tries the handle, but that isn't surprising. It's a gated community in a nice neighborhood. There's no reason to lock your door when you live in one of the safest places in California.

Inside, everything is bright and open. Jim resists the urge to flop down on the sofa in favor of twisting to watch Bones' reaction as he steps into the house.

"Not too shabby, is it?" he asks.

Bones snorts. "Congratulations on not picking a coke den, Jim."

Coming from an especially ornery Bones, that may as well be a pat on the back.

"Dibs on the bed by the window," Jim says cheerfully, and with that, he takes off for the single bedroom.

He races Bones down the hall- winning easily, considering Bones is still standing where he was two seconds ago- and throws the first door open wide. Instead being taken in by the sight of a homey bedroom with two twin beds made up with cozy looking nautical linens, however, Jim's attention zeroes in on the two people fucking in the bed two feet away from his feet.

"What the hell?" he blurts.

The people on the bed pause, and the woman's head snaps around to stare at him.

"Kirk?"

Jim blinks. _"Uhura?"_

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard may not have been excited for this trip, but faced with a blushing Vulcan, a furious Uhura, and a speechless Jim, he finds his outlook rapidly improving.

 _"I'm so sorry,"_ says the tinny voice through the speaker on Jim's phone. _"We must have double booked by accident."_

"Is there anything you can do?" Uhura asks, and for a moment, Spock looks almost hopeful.

_"Well, if two of you were to agree to pass on the house this time, we would happy to refund you and give you priority next year…"_

"That sounds good," Jim says happily. "Uhura, Spock, good to see you. Sorry to kick you out. I'm sure Jaylah can find you somewhere to stay, though."

One of Uhura's brows inches up her forehead. Leonard smothers a snort with a cough.

"We were here first," she argues.

"Yeah, but Bones and I want it more," Jim counters.

Leonard is not, in fact, all that attached to staying in the house.

Uhura, who was there when Leonard ran his mouth about getting dragged off campus, is fully aware of this. "I sincerely doubt that."

"Doubt away. It's true. Right, Bones?"

Three pairs of eyes land on Leonard. He really doesn't care what they do, so long as they choose something. Which is probably why, instead of picking a side, he suggests, "Why don't we share?"

Spock is the first to react. "I do not believe that would be a good idea, Doctor."

"Why not?" Leonard asks, genuinely curious. "Between the beach and the parties, we probably won't see much of each other. And since you two are so cozy-" Uhura's eyes narrow "-I'm sure you won't mind sharing one bed while Jim and I take the other."

Jim shakes his head. "Bones, man, those beds are not built to hold two grown men."

"It's not as if we'll be using them every night." Leonard shrugs. "And if these two get bad, I can always take the couch."

He hasn't got Jim fully onboard, but Uhura looks like she's coming around. "That does seem like the easiest solution," she says with a sigh. "Any other objections?" Spock shakes his head. After a moment, so does Jim. "Excellent. In that case, since we're sharing, why don't we split the extra payment- which I'm sure you'll be refunding us, correct?"

 _"Yes, of course!"_ The owner sounds terrified. Leonard can't blame the woman. Spring break doesn't bring out the best in people. _"To whom should I send the credits?"_

Leonard nods at Uhura, who takes over the conversation.  He can't help but notice that Jim has gone suspiciously quiet, a sure sign that danger is brewing, but he shrugs it off. There's no preventing Jim from doing what he's going to do. There's only weathering the eventual storm.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Lunch, which should have been a comfortable time to sprawl out on the couch and watch Bones carefully dissect his food, instead is a tense, silent staring match between Jim, Spock, and Uhura. Bones, somehow, seems immune to the tension and happily chews his way through one of the sandwiches Jim grabbed during a pit stop along the way.

Spock and Uhura are sitting across from them, eating some kind of fragrant soup they made in the kitchen.

"You're not eating?" Bones asks at eventually, brow furrowed as he points to Jim's uneaten sandwich. His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Are you sick?"

Jim quickly waves him off. "Just not hungry, Bones."

It shouldn't take a genius to figure out why, and Bones is plenty smart enough to do so. "You can't just stop eating because you have to share."

"You make it sound so immature."

"It is immature. Now eat your damn sandwich."

Spock and Uhura are doing a poor job of disguising their interest, so Jim sucks it up and takes a bite of his sandwich. It looks better than it tastes, he discovers sadly, but Bones is eating his identical one without complaint. So Jim chews, swallows, and takes another bite.

This would be so much better if it were just Bones and him.

Spock looks up from his soup, casts a look at Uhura, and after a moment of intense staring, puts down his spoon. "While I recognize that this situation is not optimal, I believe it would be in everyone's best interests if we were to make an effort at getting along." Clearing his throat, he adds, "In the spirit of this, I would like to extend an invitation to a party Hikaru Sulu is throwing with Gaila."

Jim's mood immediately improves.

 

**_xx_ **

The thing about Jim is, he isn't half as reckless as he seems. The risks he takes are calculated.

Leonard tells himself this over and over as Jim speeds through the dark streets toward the party. Jim is a capable pilot and a top driver. Leonard could hardly be in better hands. He can't quite bring himself to let go of the handle, though.

"What's wrong, Bones?" Jim asks after executing a stomach-lurching hairpin turn. "I thought you didn't mind cars."

"I like them fine," Leonard hisses, "especially when they have all four wheels in the ground!"

Jim shakes his head. "I know what I'm doing, Bones. I'd never put you in any real danger."

Leonard's stomach flips for a different reason entirely as they roar down a straightaway. He squashes the feeling immediately, focusing instead on the familiar house ahead. The house they are approaching approximately two hundred times too fast.

"Jim," Leonard says warningly.

"Yeah?" Jim asks, turning to face him.

"The road, you ass!" Leonard shouts. "Watch the damn road!"

"I am!"

_"Jim!"_

They come to a jarring halt right before the driveway. Smugness is radiating off Jim. It's all Leonard can do to not to reach out and smack the kid on the back of the head. "I don't like you," he hisses as he gets out.

Jim merely tips his head back, lets out a bark of a laugh, and drives off to park.

Leonard is still shaking his head when he gets to the door. Gaila answers it, looking happy and not a little drunk.

"McCoy!" she shouts. "Uhura wasn't lying when she said she was bringing us a doctor!"

A cheer goes up inside, and Gaila tugs Leonard over the threshold into an air-conditioned paradise.

"Get the man a drink," Gaila orders someone near the kitchen. "You like beer, Doc?"

"I'd love a beer," Leonard tells her, and just like that, things are off to a good start.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Bones is not happy. Jim knows this both from experience and from the tense line of his friend's shoulders.

Dragging in a deep, rattling breath through his bloody nose, Jim tries, "For what it's worth-"

"Shut up."

"But, Bones, it really wasn't my fault."

Rather than let himself be prodded into one of his angry tirades, Bones just stares out the windshield and doesn't react. Jim tries again and again, but each attempt at shaking Bones out of his eerie silence only gets the same forced silence in reply.

It isn't until they get to a stop sign that Bones finally looks at him.

"We were guests," he says, the words clear despite the way he growls them. "That was someone's home you trashed."

"I offered to help clean up-"

"And bleed all over everything?" A muscle in Bones' jaw twitches. "What do you know about cleaning up, Jim?"

Jim feels some of the anger from earlier raise its head. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I asked what the hell you know about making things right. Because, Jim, I don't think you know a damned thing about it. You get to swoop in like a big ole hero, spill the blood, and, occasionally, take the lashings that follow. But you aren't the one who has to clean up the aftermath."

"That's bullshit."

"No," Bones says, too quiet. "It isn't."

Then he's turning away, looking back through the windshield, and ignoring Jim.

They don't talk when they get back to the house. Or when they brush their teeth at the same time. Or when they climb into the too-small bed and arrange themselves back-to-back.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next morning sees Jim fast asleep, Uhura and Spock hunched over coffee at the table, and Leonard feeling dead on his feet. He pours himself a cup of coffee, slinks to the table, and lays his mug and his face on the tabletop.

"Sorry about Jim," he says once the world stops feeling gray.

Uhura sighs. "You aren't his mother."

"I'm close enough."

"He is a grown man," Spock points out. "You are not to blame for his issues. Nor are you expected to pick up the pieces."

Leonard blows out a breath, neither agreeing nor arguing. He traces the marble pattern with his thumb. “I am, though, aren’t I?”

"You're really going to be his CMO, then?" Uhura asks.

"Yeah." Leonard scratches at the back of his head.

"Why?" She doesn't sound accusatory, merely curious, as if she can't possibly see what merits there are to serving on a ship helmed by Jim Kirk- ignoring the fact that she’s going to be stationed on the _Enterprise_ , too, as will Spock.

Then again, Leonard isn't seeing too many himself at the moment.

"Jim isn't as reckless as he seems," he says after a minute. "He's smart, he's good with people when he wants to be, and he cares. With a little more time to work out the kinks, he'll make a damn good captain."

"You could be anyone's CMO, though," Uhura presses. "You can't tell me Jim is the only good command candidate, not to mention all the established captains. I heard Pike was eyeing you for his own ship."

The kicker is, Leonard doesn't know why he chose Jim. He just did. That won't be enough for Uhura, though. She's looking for a reason to believe in Jim, and Leonard's gut instinct just won't be enough.

Oddly, it's Spock who comes to his rescue. "I believe it is common for humans not to know why they believe things," he offers. "It may be that Leonard's subconscious has picked up on traits Jim possesses that none of us is consciously aware of."

Leonard gives Spock a thumbs up in thanks.

"Or he could simply have bonded with Jim to a point where he simply believes in him because they are friends. Given the doctor's tendency of following Jim's lead, even encouraging Jim's poor behavior, I suspect this may be the more likely."

Leonard drops the thumbs up.

 

**_xx_ **

 

By the time Jim wakes up and gathers the courage to leave the room, the others are in the living room. Spock and Uhura are sitting together on one of the overstuffed recliners, leaving Jim to choose between the other chair and the free cushion next to Bones. Ordinarily that wouldn't be a choice at all; he would simply drop down next to his best friend. He'd like to do that now, but if Bones is still angry, he won't like Jim being in his space.

Jim is stilling looking between them when Bones, without looking up from his PADD, pats the free cushion.

"Sit."

Jim does.

"I'm still angry," Bones says idly, still not facing him. This isn’t a surprise; Jim hadn't bothered to hope Bones would be over last night. "You're a reckless son of a bitch sometimes, but we need groceries."

"You got a list?"

Bones taps his screen. "I just sent it and some credits. Don't just buy booze, get some vegetables, and maybe I'll be less angry when you get back."

"Yes, dear," Jim says brightly. He hops to his feet and jogs out to the car, mood lifted.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"You're so weak," Uhura drawls.

Leonard ignores her.

"I believe this is a common symptom of human friendship," Spock adds. He sounds almost conspiratorial, as if the green-blooded bastard has any sense of conspiracy. "Though why groceries are important to the ritual of forgiveness, I cannot see."

Uhura shakes her head. "The groceries aren't important, Spock. The fact that Jim is going to get them is."

Leonard groans and turns over, which does nothing to muffle Uhura rolling her eyes.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim returns to a better house than the one he left. Uhura and Spock are nowhere to be found. Sunlight is streaming through the open windows. Bones is snoozing with his face mashed into the back of the couch, but he startles awake when Jim touches his ankle.

"Back already?" he asks, wiping at his face.

Jim rolls his eyes. "It's been two hours, Bones."

"Oh, God."

"Any idea where the other two went?"

Bones shakes his head. "None, I’m happy to say."

"Then what do you say we go swimming? It's our own personal beach, and maybe if you swim hard enough, you'll sleep tonight."

"I don't trust this," Bones says, eyes wary, but he gets up all the same. Jim watches him stretch, his worn t-shirt riding up his belly as Bones arches his back and raises his arms. Jim follows with his eyes as Bones heads to the bedroom, yawning and scratching at himself as he goes.

Sometimes, rarely, a freshly woken Bones will be a friendly Bones. He will laze about like a cat, eyes half-shut as he hooks an arm around Jim and tugs him over. They don't cuddle or anything- Bones isn't that kind of guy- but he will throw an arm around Jim and fall back asleep.

Today clearly isn't one of those days.

It doesn't take long for Bones to reappear, now with a towel slung around his neck and dressed in low-riding swimming trunks. The low rise isn't a surprise nearly as much as the color.

"Pink, Bones?" Jim asks, feeling his brows creep up his forehead.

Bones gives him a flat look and crosses his arms. "I couldn't find my old pair, and Joanna was with me when I went to get new ones. She likes pink."

Yeah, that will explain it. If it were up to Bones, his wardrobe would be blue, black, and white. But if his daughter picked out pink shorts for him, then pink shorts he would wear.

Scowl deepening, Bones asks, "You got a problem, Jim?"

Jim shakes his head and quickly makes his way to the bedroom to change into his own shorts.

"Let's go get some sun!" he calls, dashing past Bones and out the open door.

"Are you wearing sunscreen?" Bones yells after him. "Jim? Jim, get back here!"

Jim does not get back there, instead throws his towel onto the sand and splashes his way into the water until he can disappear under the surface. Only then does he pop up and give his friend his brightest smile.

"If you burn, I'm not helping you," Bones tells him from the shore.

Jim shrugs. "Aren't you coming in?"

"I think I'll just enjoy the sun for a while."

"Suit yourself," Jim says, shrugging and swimming away.

It turns out that swimming alone isn't much fun, though. He had pictured Bones grouching his way in until the water got to his waist, then complaining that it was too cold and trying to leave. Jim would have tackled him, then, and they would have had a splash fight that would get Bones soaked but rolling his eyes and grinning. If Bones want to stay dry, though, then so be it. Jim will just have to find another way to have fun.

He doesn't have to look for long.

There's a group of Orion gals not far down the beach, and they smile and wave him over when they catch sight of him. Jim is happy to oblige; if Gaila is any indication, Orions are a group up for fun.

He meets them at the edge of the water, where they swap introductions and Jim explains his situation. His new friends are more than sympathetic, inviting him to join them for a swim and to join them for a campfire later. They even tell him to bring Bones if he can. Jim doubts he will be able to, but he gamely tells them he'll try.

After a solid couple of hours of swimming around, playing Marco Polo and tag, then another hour sunning themselves on the beach, the Orions tell him it's dark enough to get the fire going, and won't he grab his friend?

Hauling himself to his feet, Jim does just that. He jogs back to where he left Bones stretched out on his blanket, but Bones is nowhere to be found. Jim tries checking down the beach, opposite the direction he came in, but his friend must have gone inside.

Sure enough, all he has to do is poke his head inside the door, and he finds Bones reading on the couch.

"Hey, Bones!" Jim shouts.

"Hello, Jim," Bones replies, in a pointedly quieter voice. "I haven't seen you in a while. I was starting to think you might have drowned."

Rolling his eyes, Jim relays the invitation. Bones, predictably, waves him off.

"Aw, come on,” Jim protests. “Live a little!"

"I'm fine right here."

"But you could be more than fine out there, with us." Jim weighs the merits of pushing harder- Bones might give in just to shut him up, but he also might push back harder just to show he can- before deciding to hell with it. "Please, Bones? They're nice ladies, and I don't want to disappoint them."

Bones heaves a sigh but puts his book away and gets to his feet. He's still wearing his trunks, Jim notes happily.

"All right, all right. Let's see if these ladies are as interested as you say they are."

To Bones' obvious surprise, Jim's Orion pals are exactly as interested as they said they would be. They quiz him on being a doctor and attending Starfleet as thoroughly as they'd quizzed Jim. They all coo when Bones mentions having a daughter, and when he gives in and produces a picture of her, they're quick to tell him how beautiful she is, how they can see she has his eyes, what a lovely woman she will make.

It doesn't seem to bother Bones, but it makes Jim grind his teeth. It took him ages to get Bones to warm up enough to talk about Joanna with him. Jocelyn was easy; Bones is the type to air out his anger whether you're ready or not. But Joanna... Bones plays it close to the vest with Joanna. Yet here he is, letting people they don't even know gush over a girl they'll never meet in an obvious ploy to get into his pants.

The worst part is, it works. Bones sits down in the sand with an Orion on either side and tells them sanitized versions of stories Jim has seen take their toll on his friend. To the Orions, Bones is a dedicated miracle worker.

Jim knows better.

He's still stewing over the way the girls are fawning over Bones when one of the ones working on building the fire loses her balance and falls over. She lands with her arm in the fire, and suddenly the warm, cozy atmosphere shatters with the sound of her screams as she thrashes on the sand.

Bones doesn't hesitate. "Jim, go get my bag," he orders as he rushes to the screaming girl's side. Jim obeys without question. Bones always brings his bag with him, and he always leaves it in the same place. It's a matter of moments for Jim to cross the beach, dash through the house, throw the bedroom door open, grab the bag from under the bed, and run back.

Bones has the girl in his arms, her body settled in the v of his spread legs, her back to his chest. She's sobbing heavily and shaking hard, but Bones is talking to her in that low, calm voice Jim recognizes from the few times he's seen Bones in action.

"Are you allergic to anything?" he's asking. "I want to give you a hypo, but I need to make sure it isn't going to make things worse."

The girl shakes her head, and with Jim holding the bag open, Bones reaches in and pulls out a hypo. "On the count of three, okay? One, two, three."

It only takes a second for the Orion to relax in Bones' hold. "It will only last a few hours, so be ready for the pain to come back," Bones tells the others. "I'll wrap her arm up and apply an ointment, but she should get to an E.R. for follow up care, all right?"

They nod, their attention fixed on him, and Bones reaches back into his bag. "No swimming until she gets cleared for it, and don't get the bandage wet in the shower. No extremes of temperature either. If she can bear it, something cool for twenty minutes every few hours will help with the swelling, but be careful with it. Whatever you do, don't let it go over twenty minutes or you'll risk compromising the skin. Other than that, with some rest, she ought to be fine. Maybe some light scarring, but your species heals well."

Again, the Orions nod, their bright eyes focused on Bones as he carefully applies a thick layer of goop over the damaged arm and gently wraps a bandage over it.

"It's a good thing you came," the one to Jim's right says quietly. "If you hadn't been here..."

"If I hadn't been here, Jim would have known to get me," Bones says firmly. "Or one of you would have called for help, and we, or someone else, would have heard. Now, where are you staying?"

The group points to a house just up the beach, so Bones shifts the unfortunate Orion girl in his arms until he has her in a fireman's carry. "I'll be back in a minute," he tells Jim, who's still kneeling on the sand.

Jim nods, and Bones and the Orions leave him behind.

It's a good thing, too, Jim thinks a little hysterically. The darkness and the situation hid it well, but he can feel that he's half-hard in his shorts.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks viciously. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

 

**_xx_ **

 

When Leonard finally shakes off the last of the thankful Orions, it's nearly pitch black out and he's feeling drained. It was hardly a life or death situation- the girl was instinctively rolling in the sand before he grabbed her and dragged her to the water. That would have put the fire out eventually, if more slowly. Her life was never in any real danger. But adrenaline doesn't distinguish between a fatal emergency and a bad situation, and the inevitable come down always hits him hard.

He left his card with the Orions just in case. The next doctor the girl sees might want to double check something with him, or shock might set in despite the hypo. Better safe than sorry, after all. He'd rather err on the side of caution.

Despite that, he feels like death when he gets back to the house. He hears Uhura and Spock before he even reaches the deck, but they sound happy- at least Uhura does. Leonard can never tell with the green bastard.

When he gets inside, Spock takes one look at him and says, "You look terrible, Doctor."

And that is just about the funniest thing Leonard has ever heard. Laughter bubbles up in his chest and tumbles free, and all Leonard can do is gasp for breath as he sinks to the floor, howling and slapping his thigh. Spock and Uhura's eyes go wide, and that only makes Leonard laugh harder.

He's crying with it by the time Jim appears, now dressed in a pair of worn boxers and a soft t-shirt.

"Oh, Bones. At least you got out of there before it started, eh?" Then Jim is bending down and lifting Leonard up, tugging one of Leonard's arms over his neck, and bodily hauling him through the house. He eases Leonard onto their bed with more care than he usually shows, and Leonard would laugh about that if he weren't still laughing about Spock and Uhura exchanging a simultaneous look of bewilderment as Jim hauled him away.

"Try to sleep," Jim says softly. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Leonard nods, the wild laughter finally slowing to a weak chuckle as Jim tucks the sheets around him.

The room feels colder after Jim leaves, and Leonard's body aches despite the softness of the bed. It's long past midnight by the time exhaustion finally pulls him under.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"Does this occur every time Doctor McCoy treats a patient?" Spock asks when Jim returns.

Uhura frowns. "I've seen him after surgeries before, and he's been fine. Tired, sure, but nothing like that."

Flopping down on his back, Jim looks up at the ceiling and considers his options. Truth or deflection. Truth or lie. Lie or platitude. Uhura and Spock don't hurry him, just cuddle together against the chill and study him. They’re going to be serving with Bones soon, but is it worth telling them?

In the end, Jim sighs and rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. "He's burning out. Between his divorce, the fact that he doesn't like space, and the hours he's working, he's running on empty. That's why I wanted to bring him out here," he adds. It’s a low blow, but getting this place was a pain in the ass. And he had plans, which are now useless because they involved not sharing space with anyone. "I know everybody needs a break, but Bones... He doesn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. In his mind, it's just him alone in the empty vacuum of space until he dies- probably in space."

"So that's why you were so annoying about bringing him," Uhura says, voice soft. "I thought you just didn't want to be alone."

"I'd be fine on my own, but I don't think Bones would be." Jim casts his mind back over the last few semesters, thinks of all the times Bones has sat through things he didn't like just to be around other people. "Attitude aside, he's a social guy, you know? It isn't good for him to be alone."

Spock pulls Uhura closer. "Yes, I have heard a number of Starfleet higher ups comment on the doctor's state of being." He levels Jim with a steady, almost kind stare. "Many are uncertain of his future with the fleet. It has been suggested that despite his skills, it may not be worth the risk to send him into space. There is concern that once he is fully disconnected from earth, he might become unreliable. Or worse, a danger to his crew. It is not unheard of for medical officers to find space intolerable. They are, after all, inherently the most emotionally invested."

Jim isn't surprised to hear there are people questioning Bones' fitness. He doesn't blame them. They're wrong, though. They don't know Bones like Jim does. "Be that as it may, I know Bones. He just needs some time to get himself together again."

Neither Uhura nor Spocks replies, but Jim feels their doubt. But that's all right. They aren't the ones determining Bones' future. Only Bones can do that, and Jim knows his friend too well to consider Bones failing Starfleet. When he signed those papers, Bones made a commitment, and he wouldn't be Bones if he didn't keep it.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard wakes up with a nasty headache, a taste in his mouth like something died in it, and an urgent need to empty his bladder. Rolling out of bed, he drags himself to the bathroom on stiff legs, where he takes care of the latter two. The first requires going into the kitchen, and that, he knows, will mean facing Jim, Uhura, and Spock.

Last night is a little fuzzy, but he remembers enough.

There's no point in putting off the inevitable, so Leonard takes a deep breath and opens the door.

"Mornin', Bones!" Jim says, too chipper. Spock adds his own stilted, "Good morning," while Uhura grunts at him from the table where she's hugging a mug to her chest.

Might as well get the worst of it over. "About last night... I don't know what got into me."

The other three shrug. Well, Jim and Uhura do. Spock tips his head in a weird way that Leonard chooses to interpret as a shrug.

"Don't worry about it," Jim says, waving him off. "And come have some pancakes, will you?"

"If I wanted to have a heart attack-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just eat the damn pancakes, will you?"

Leonard sighs but sits down and accepts a plate. He doesn't have the energy to argue, and it's a rarity for Jim to cook something. Leonard might as well take advantage while he can, even if he knows Jim is only cooking because of what happened.

They're good pancakes, and Leonard is happily digging into his second one when Jim casually mentions that Leonard got a call last night.

"It was from that group of Orions," he explains before Leonard can worry about missing a call from Joanna. "Apparently they're throwing a party soon, and they want us to come."

"That's nice of them," Leonard says, "but we won't be going."

"I told them that, but they insisted." Jim raises his hands, palms out. "They say they just want to thank you and show off your handiwork."

"That's the last thing l want."

"I told them that, too."

It isn't exactly unethical to go. A bad idea, yes, but it isn't morally wrong. And Bones isn't about to make a habit of following around people he's treated.

"Fine," he says, giving in reluctantly, "but I don't want us going alone."

Jim beams at him. "Spock and Uhura are invited, too."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Bones settles in on one of the chairs to write up a report on the supplies he used last night, so Jim takes the other chair and, with his belly pleasantly full, decides a nap wouldn't be a bad idea. He doesn't quite manage to fall asleep, though, simply falls into a doze where he's still half-aware.

The sound of Bones tapping out his report is familiar and soothing, as are the muttered curses he lets out when he starts to get annoyed with the pages of paperwork.

He starts humming to himself after a little while, probably once he's accepted that this is what he signed up for, and Jim lets himself float along with the tune.

The thing about Bones is, he's a comfortable sort of guy. He likes his routines, keeps his things orderly and clean, and shows up when you need him. Even though he's abrupt about it, he handles people with care. His clothes are always broken in and soft- there's a parallel in that which Jim isn't about to voice.

Bones is the type that likes to give, and Jim is the type that likes to take. It's no wonder Jim latched onto him the moment they met.

Bones lets out a sigh, and Jim hears the PADD thump against the coffee table. After that it's the rustling of an old-fashioned book. Bones claims he just likes the feeling of them in his hands, but Jim suspects there's more to it than that. Bones spends all day looking at screens and manipulating machines. He rarely has to physically interact with patients. To any modern person, that would sound like the safest way to go about it, but Bones comes from a long line of doctors. He's got a lot of ideas about the importance of touch and the mechanization of medicine, the dehumanization of patients.

"It's a trade-off, you see," he announced loudly one night, completely hammered. "Yeah, we can cure more shit, but we've lost the art of caring, see? We cure the systems without considering the being they comprise." He sighed. "Healing used to be an intimate thing, Jim. It was an act of love. Now it's just one more thing we've delegated to the machines, and I don't think we'll ever get it back."

That was the saddest Jim has ever seen Bones, save discussions of his family, and he set himself the task of seeing firsthand what had Bones so rankled.

It took some time, and a lot of careful planning, but eventually Jim managed to see four other Starfleet doctors. Not a single one touched him.

Bones, though... Bones touches everybody he sees, whether it's shaking their hand when they come in for a physical or helping them into a bed, he's always there, an unmissable human presence. Grouching and snapping all the way.

Jim hasn't seen another doctor since his experiment.

He's lounging comfortably in his chair, listening to the soft sounds of Bones turning pages and falling deeper into the doze, when Bones lets out a heavy sigh and shuts his book.

"Hey, Jim?"

"Yeah, Bones?" Jim asks thickly.

"You're snoring."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Real loud, too."

"Oh."

Bones mutters something too low for Jim to catch. Then he's hauling himself up and marching over to Jim's chair, a blanket in his hand. He throws the blanket over Jim with a roll of his eyes. "Go to sleep, Jim, would you?"

"’M not that tired..."

"Trust me. Your face is starting to peel. Sleep while you can."

That sounds like a bad thing, Jim decides. Peeling and people never go together well. But sleep is nice. Great, even. Finally, doctor's orders that don't suck.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim sleeps for a couple hours, which is all the time Leonard has to himself before Spock comes in, shoulders squared, and announces, "Montgomery Scott is throwing a party, and we are all cordially invited to come."

"Why do I detect a hint of mandatory fun in that?"

"The invitation was longer, yes, but I elected to pass over the expletives and suggestions that not coming will result in retribution of the prank kind."

Leonard had been hoping for a quiet night in, but he really doesn't want to deal with a vengeful Scotty, who will doubtless get Keenser on board. And Jaylah, who Leonard can't in good conscience get back at, as Scotty well knows.

Running his hands over his face, he resigns himself to the inevitable. "We'll be there."

"A wise decision, Doctor."

Leonard resists the urge to groan. Jim is going to love this.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim wakes up hard. This is neither unusual nor surprising. It is, however, damn inconvenient.

He remembers the dream perfectly. A soft bed, smooth sheets, a warm body pressed up against him. The press of a hard cock against his thigh. Big hands framing his face. Half-shut brown eyes blown black.

Luckily, he can hear Bones singing and the sound of water running, so at least he has time to will his dick into sitting down.

By the time Bones emerges, Jim's dick is back to neutral.

"Shower's free," Bones announces. His hair is still damp and sticking up wildly from vigorous toweling. A droplet runs down the side of his face as he drops into the free chair with a soft "oof".

Jim watches him pull out a pair of socks and struggle into the first one before deciding that watching Bones get dressed after dreaming about him is too weird and heading to the shower himself.

He turns the temperature to cold, puts the power on high, and gets the hell out as fast as he can.

Temptation resisted, he pulls on a pair of pants that's just this side of too tight and a fitted white tee he's ninety percent sure belongs to Bones despite finding its way into Jim's bag. After that, it's just a matter of tugging his socks on, jamming his feet into his boots, and slicking back his hair.

Clean and dressed, he's ready to face Bones.

"That was fast," his friend observes. "You sure you're okay? We could stay here if you want."

Jim very much wants, which is exactly why he shakes his head. "Nah, I'm ready to see what Scotty has planned. Keenser's probably got some beats lined up, and I, for one, would not mind some company tonight."

Bones shakes his head. "At least let me put some aloe on the worst of the sunburns. And don't argue," he adds when Jim opens his mouth to argue. "I know you're peeling all over, so you may as well save your breath."

Rather than argue, which will only make Bones do something awful like purposefully slap him on the shoulder all night, Jim shrugs out of his shirt.

When Bones fails to move, Jim scowls. "Are you treating me or what?"

Grumbling something that sounds remarkably like, "I'll treat you to something," Bones reaches into his pocket and produces a tube of bright green gel.  "This is going to hurt," he warns.

Jim still can't help but wince when Bones touches him despite the warning.

"Infant," Bones huffs. He doesn't stop rubbing the aloe in, but he does soften his touch. "Bear with it. I'd give you something more advanced, but I don't want to find out you've had a reaction in the middle of a party."

"Aw, Bones, I didn't know you cared."

"Of course I care."

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. I also know how you think, so I figure it can't hurt to remind you." Done with Jim's shoulders, Bones peers down at him. "Close your eyes. I've got to do your face."

"My face is fine."

"Close your eyes, Jim."

Quashing the shudder that wants to run through him at Bones' tone, Jim shuts his eyes.

The tips of Bones' long fingers rub smoothly over his face in gentle circles. His breath ghosts warmly over Jim's mouth. They’re almost the same height, Jim remembers. It makes borrowing clothes easy.

The problem is, people don't touch Jim. Sure, there's the requisite touching when he beds somebody, or when he's flirting with them, but they don't touch him just to touch him. He's the son of George Kirk. He's the head of his classes. He’s a hero.

Bones doesn't care. He bumps their shoulders together companionably. He grabs Jim and bodily moves him. He puts his feet in Jim's lap at the end of a long day. He smacks Jim's hands away when Jim tries to steal food off his plate. He puts his hand on the back of Jim's neck when things get bad.

It's a relief and an endless tease. Jim has been pulled to Bones from the moment the man dropped his life story on Jim. No hesitation. No shame. Just the angry kind of honesty Jim has never mastered.

Bones is the kind of loyal where he will walk at Jim's elbow one minute, then grab that elbow and drag Jim off when he decides it's necessary.

Jim feels Bones move away, the warmth of his body disappearing. "All right. You can open your eyes now."

Jim does, just in time for Uhura to come bounding through the front door. "Give me fifteen minutes!" she shouts as she dashes into the bedroom.

A minute later, a heavy-laden Spock teeters through the open doorway. There are bags upon bags hanging on his arms. He throws them a wide-eyed look as he comes to a stop, and Jim, desperate not to laugh in the guy's face, looks to Bones.

Mistake.

Bones turns toward him and snorts, and that's it. Jim lets out a shout of a laugh, and Bones follows right behind, the two of them wiping at their eyes as Spock stands there looking stiff and confused.

They don't stop until long after Uhura shouts for Spock to join her.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jaylah takes one look at Leonard and sighs. "Leonard Bones," she says in that chirpy accent of hers, "you are here to party. Why are you dressed like this?"

Leonard looks down at himself, takes in his jeans and jacket, and looks back at Jaylah. "What's wrong with the way I look?"

Beside him, Jim pipes up, "Bones used to be married, Jaylah. He hasn’t had to dress himself in a while."

"I'll have you know I dressed myself back then, too," Leonard hisses. "I don’t know what you two are on about. I look fine."

"But you should look _desirable_ ," Jaylah points out, as if Leonard's number one priority obviously ought to be attracting more heartbreak. "Come with me."

She grabs Leonard's hand and immediately tows him away into the house. Leonard tries to object, but Jaylah isn't having it. She drags him through the party, knocking aside people who move too slowly, and hauls him up a flight of stairs. They walk past a bunch of doors before she throws one open and shoves him inside.

"You wait here," she orders.

Leonard nods, but she's already turning away.

Left alone in a stranger's room, Leonard walks to the bed- which is handily made up neatly- and sits down on it. He nearly flies off it in surprise when it flows around him.

Water bed, he realizes. This is an old-style water bed.

There's no one around, so Leonard gleefully swings his legs up and lets himself enjoy the jiggling.

He's still grinning to himself when the door flies open and Jaylah marches in.

"You put these on," she orders.

Leonard doesn't bother arguing or attempting to shoo her. He's a grown man who has spent his life seeing various beings undressed. He can handle Jaylah glaring at him.

"You had to wear boxers?" she grouches as he strips off his jeans.

"Would like me to take them off?" Leonard asks, hooking his thumbs in his waistband challengingly.

Jaylah, to her credit, seems to give the idea actual thought before shaking her head. "Next time, you wear briefs," she says.

Leonard deliberately does not ask why she assumes there will be a next time, instead steps into a pair of significantly tighter pants. Rearranging his boxers so they lie flat is an adventure, but he manages it. He doesn't get to celebrate the victory; Jaylah immediately tosses a shirt at him. A shirt, Leonard quickly learns, that is also significantly tighter, and shorter, with a lower neckline.

"I'm not a woman," he points out.

Jaylah gives him a look like he's said something remarkably unintelligent. "You are not."

"Can I at least keep my jacket?"

"No. I will put it in your car." She gives him a clinical once over before nodding. "You can go find Jim now."

Unwilling to risk further styling, Leonard quickly makes his way out of the room and downstairs to where he assumes Jim will be flirting with someone.

It takes him two minutes to prove himself right. He's debating whether to signal to Jim that he survived or to walk away and just grab a drink when Jim happens to look over. Leonard can see Jim slip from confident to confused to surprised to something else entirely. He says something to the man, who follows the finger he uses to point out Leonard. He nods quickly and leans in to ask something that makes Jim shake his head violently. His new friend laughs and makes a shooing gesture, which Jim follows.

"I see Jaylah had fun with you," he observes when he reaches Leonard. "No makeup, though?"

"Please don't put that out there."

"Aw, Bones."

"Bad enough she put me in this," Leonard says, pulling at the hem of his shirt, which has started to ride up. "Damn thing doesn't even reach my pants."

"I'm sure you'll find someone to take your mind off it," Jim assures him, as if that’s what Leonard's been worrying about.

"Don't be an ass."

"Come on. I don't get the chance to see you out of sorts that often."

"You'll see me in space," Leonard grumbles.

Jim just laughs as if it's fine, as if Leonard isn't going to face down his own mortality every day for nearly two thousand days for him. As if Leonard wouldn't do a thousand more in a heartbeat.

"Come on, Bones. Let's get you something to drink."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim doesn't know how it happens. One minute he's drinking with Bones and teasing him about his upcoming flight sim. The next, he's fucking the guy he was flirting with earlier. He's some kind of alien- Jim can’t remember which- but they're obviously compatible. And it's good, really good. Good as it gets. His mind is going blank, only the feeling of the guy around him, and he's going to sleep like a brick after this.

So of course that's when the guy cups his hands around Jim’s face and asks, in a perfectly calm voice, "Jim Kirk, where are you?"

"Right here," Jim pants. He's so close. If he just gives him a little more time-

"No," the alien says, sounding sad. "You are not."

And that's it. He knows they're done, so he pulls out and sits back. His dick is already going soft. His head is pounding. He wanted a nice, distracting lay, but he can already tell that's not what he's going to get tonight.

"Your friend is lucky to have you," his partner says. Jim isn't sure what his name is, and that alone should have told him tonight wasn't going to go in his favor.

Shaking his head, Jim glances up. "I'm the lucky one."

Alien cocks his head but says nothing for a long moment. "Be well, James Kirk. And if you ever sort out what's keeping you so distant, come find me. We could have a good time."

That said, he slips off the bed and into his pants. They fit him closely, but not as closely as Bones' t-shirt fit him. The neckline dips, but it doesn't reveal the hard lines of a muscular chest. There's no line of dark hair down the alien’s belly.

He leaves without saying anything else, but Jim hears his words echo with every thump of his footfalls.

He gets dressed slowly, feeling suddenly heavy. Maybe, if Bones is somehow not surrounded by every single person at the party, they'll be able to go home early.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard watches Jim trudge down the stairs, but instead of the usual unpleasant curl in his stomach, he just feels concern. Jim is slouched over himself, his head hanging low.

Leonard disengages from the woman he's been talking with about the improvements in prosthetics with haptic technology. She isn't happy to let him go- they were having an interesting discussion about the appropriate time for prosthetics vs regeneration- but Leonard knows that slouch. It's the one that always comes before Jim goes looking for a fight when he's had to swallow something he doesn't like.

It's easy to slip an arm around his friend’s shoulders and guide him away.

"Whatever you're thinking," Leonard says as he tugs Jim into the car, "stop. It's a bad idea, and I don't want to fix you when I'm on break."

Jim doesn't even try to argue, just lets himself be sat down in the seat.

The silence is eerie, but it's nothing Leonard hasn't handled before. Once he has the car going, he reaches out with his right hand and clasps it lightly around the nape of Jim's neck. He doesn't know when the habit started or how; all he knows is, it works. If he keeps a hand on Jim, he can prevent more damage than not.

And Jim lets him. God knows why, but he does.

Leonard tries not to think about that, the why of Jim's behavior, but it's difficult.

What about Jim isn't?

 

**_xx_ **

 

Bones has nice hands. They're big hands, which he keeps baby soft. It's another hold over from a different time. Surgeons need steady hands, but they don't have to be smooth or unbroken anymore. Haven't had to be for a long time. But Bones is meticulous when it comes to taking care of his hands. Jim watches him rub lotion into them periodically throughout the day and use a special lotion on them at night. He watches Bones avoid throwing punches in fights. Watches him massage his fingers until they're limber and move fluidly. Watches him do exercises to strengthen them.

When the focus of all that care comes to rest on him, Jim can't find it in himself to shake Bones off. He can't justify the risk of damaging something Bones has spent so much of his life caring for.

And even if he could live with himself if he hurt Bones' hand, there's the simple fact that Bones laying his hand on Jim feels good. The circles his thumb traces are easy to get lost in; the clench of his fingers is grounding.

Jim doesn't even notice when they pull up in the driveway until Bones retrieves his hand and tells him it's time to go in.

They file through the house quietly. Bones doesn't ask what happened, and Jim is beyond relieved. He can't come up with an answer that isn't incriminating. All his thoughts are muddled and overlaid with the scent of Bones' aftershave.

It's cool inside but not cold. Only the weak light from the lamp highlights the dips and planes of Bones' body as he struggles out of the clothes Jaylah put him in. He isn't as cut as Jim is, but he's solid. A man who doesn’t fight for a living, but one who could hold his own if he had to.

"You need something?"

Realizing he's been staring, Jim quickly looks away. "Just thinking," he lies. "Sorry."

Bones rolls his shoulders and lets the subject drop.

Jim, by virtue of having easier clothes to remove, is the first to finish stripping down. He briefly considers grabbing a washcloth and sponging himself off, but he just doesn't have the energy. Besides, Bones will probably pass out the minute his head hits the pillow like he usually does, so it's not as if he'll notice how Jim smells.

Decision made, Jim crawls into bed. After his earlier nap in the armchair, his spine is pathetically relieved for him to be in a proper bed.

Bones follows after a few more minutes of cursing and struggling. He wriggles around for a moment, turning over and over, before letting out his customary sigh and falling still.

They're pressed together firmly. Jim is on his back, while Bones has his face half buried in his pillow. He will be dead to the world in a few minutes.

Jim listens to Bones breathe for a long time, the sound growing even and steady, and it soon becomes clear that Jim is the only one awake. It's simultaneously exactly what he wants and the last thing he wants. It's too easy to let his mind wander, to blur what's real with what he wants.

He should have thought of this and found a reason to sleep on the couch.

"Could you shut up for two damn minutes?"

Startling, Jim turns to the side and comes face to face with Bones. The light's off, so he can't make out Bones' features, but the moonlight is strong enough to glint off Bones' eyes.

"I can feel you thinking," Bones continues, voice tired. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Jim says hurriedly.

"Then stop worrying over it. Some of us need our beauty sleep."

It's meant to get a laugh from Jim, but all it does is remind him of how close Bones has gotten to fading away.

"You have to graduate," Jim hears himself say.

Bones groans. "Is that what's had you in such a tizzy?" Skin rasps against skin, probably Bones rubbing at his face. "I got through med school, Jim. I can handle Starfleet."

"But do you want to?" That's the million-dollar question, the one that's been keeping Jim up at night.

Bones doesn't answer right away. Jim tries to think that's a good thing. Bones is taking this seriously. That's what Jim wants.

Eventually, though, Bones is going to have to answer, and when he does, Jim is going to have to deal with it.

"I don't like space," Bones says slowly. "Doubt I ever will. And I'm not fond of the idea that I'll be missing my daughter growing up. But the fact is, I wouldn't be seeing it as much as I'd want even if I stayed on earth. I like what I'm doing, Jim. Sure, a life not knowing where a Vulcan's heart is would suit me fine, but I don't mind this one so much. And hey, maybe I'll get to name something after Joanna."

The knot in Jim's chest eases some at Bones' words, but he wouldn't be himself if he didn't press. "And you're sure you want to go up with me?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" The sheets rustle as Bones rolls onto his side. "I'm not in the habit of lying, Jim. Not to myself and not to you. If I'm going to go up there and face Christ knows what, then yeah, I want you as my captain. Any other questions you'd like to get off your chest?"

Jim shakes his head, and Bones lets out a breath. "Excellent. Now go to sleep. I'm sure you've got some godawful adventure planned for tomorrow."

As it happens, Jim doesn't have a plan for tomorrow. But he can always come up with one.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard normally likes shopping. It's a good way to know firsthand exactly what he has to work with and good practice for the time when he will have to prioritize one medicine over another. As a doctor, it wasn't his job to manage stock, and it always made him twitchy. As a medical officer, especially as chief, the responsibility of managing supplies will be his once again. It's been a while since he seriously had to make due on a budget, so food shopping is a blessing in disguise.

That said, this is the first time he's gone shopping with Spock. God willing, it will also be the last.

"What are you doing?" Leonard asks for the hundredth time today as Spock leans over a suspicious-looking fruit and, without picking it up, inhales sharply. "Come on, man. Just pick the damn thing up."

Spock ignores him and shifts the pile of fruit around.

It's eerily similar to the days when Jocelyn and he were at their worst, and Leonard really isn't in the mood to deal with that. "Fine," he says, backing away, "you keep doing whatever you're doing. I'll just head out and find the peanut butter. If I'm not there, I'm getting bread."

What possible reason, he thinks to himself two minutes later as he stares down a wall of jars, could there be for having this many types of peanut butter?

He looks down at his PADD in case he missed some sort of clue, but all Jim wrote was _Peanut Butter (The Good Kind!)_.

"Dammit, Jim," he mutters. "I'm a doctor, not a psychic."

He's considering calling Jim when an amused voice interrupts. "Need some help?"

Leonard looks up and finds himself faced with a handsome man maybe a few years older than he is. He's in good shape, good enough to rival Jim, and dressed neatly in a white button down and pressed slacks.

One of the things Leonard learned about himself fairly young was how diverse his tastes run. He met Joce when he was barely grown, so he's had precious little firsthand experience, which, combined with his workload, makes it easy to for him to push any thoughts about experimenting- at his age, good God- down.

But sometimes he gets hit with a reminder. Now, faced with this man, is one of them.

"Ah, yeah," Leonard says after a beat. "My roommate sent me after peanut butter, but all he said to get was the 'good kind'."

The stranger hums, gives the conundrum a bit of a think, then raises his hands in surrender. "I'm probably not going to be much help, then. I only came to grab some jam, but I'm having the same problem, I'm afraid."

They share a laugh, and Leonard finds himself holding out his hand. "Leonard McCoy."

"Rob Martini."

They shake, and Leonard finds himself feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

"What brings you to our little town, Leonard?"

"Once again, I have to cite my roommate. He insisted we go somewhere on break instead of slumming it in the dorms like we usually do."

"Starfleet?" Rob asks, and Leonard nods. "I thought so. We get a lot of people from the fleet here. They're usually rambunctious youngsters, though."

The request is obvious, and Leonard is feeling like indulging. "I found myself looking for a new profession late in life, and Starfleet fit the bill."

Rob shakes his head. "Late in life? Leonard, you're hardly an old man- unless you've aged especially well?"

Leonard snorts, and he finds himself drawn into a conversation that lasts until Spock turns up and, in typical Vulcan style, ruins the moment.

"Doctor McCoy," he says abruptly, appearing at Leonard's elbow, "I believe we are expected back at the house soon."

They aren't, but Leonard is feeling generous.

"Good to meet you, Rob," he says, meaning it fully.

Rob gives him a bright smile. "You, too, Leonard. And don't hesitate to stop by. I'm serious about that. The gang would love to meet you."

He turns and walks away with a sloppy salute. Leonard watches him go, eyes drawn magnetically to the generous curve of Rob's ass. The moment his newfound friend disappears, he whirls on Spock.

"What the hell was that?"

Spock doesn't play stupid. "I do not trust that man."

"You didn't trust Jim either," Leonard points out.

"This is different."

"How?"

For the first time in a long time, Spock looks lost. "I do not know. All I can say is I wish you would be careful, Doctor."

"Gee, thanks." Leonard says it with a roll of his eyes, but under the exasperation, he's genuinely surprised. He and Spock are usually at odds over just about everything. He had assumed the Vulcan didn't care for him. Yet here Spock is, warning him to be careful.

There's no point in obsessing over it, though, particularly not in a supermarket. "Any chance you know what kind of peanut butter Jim meant?"

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim doesn't like the sound of this Rob guy right off the bat. Neither, he can tell, do Spock and Uhura. Spock seems especially unsettled by the man, and Jim doesn't like the idea of anybody who can visibly rattle a Vulcan.

"Come on, Bones," he says reasonably. "Who just approaches somebody they don't know in a supermarket?"

"Lots of people," Leonard growls. Jim has exactly two seconds to regret what he said before Leonard adds, "He's from Georgia, too. Just because y'all are distrustful of everything with a heartbeat doesn't mean we all are." Not done yet, he gets to his feet. "I didn't realize that when you said we should see people and go to parties, you only meant ones you picked out."

"Bones-"

"You know what? I don’t have to listen to this."

And that's that. Jim watches, helpless and guilty, as Bones turns and marches out the back door. He's barefoot and dressed in the heavy shorts he hates wearing because they always fall down, but he isn't about to listen to Jim. So off he goes, radiating anger hot enough that maybe he won't get burned from the sun.

"Well that was masterfully handled," Uhura says.

"Oh, I'm sorry,” Jim says snappily. “Did you have a different plan?"

"I did, actually. Encourage Leonard to go and find a way to invite one of us along." She blows out a breath, sharp and annoyed. "He had a point, you know. You're the one who said he needed to be around more people. He's an adult. No one can decide who those people are but him."

Jim wants to argue. He does. But Uhura's right. He went too far. Even though he was just trying to watch out for Bones, he should have been smarter about it.

A quiet voice asks if that's really all he was doing. Jim squashes it mercilessly, just as he has every time before.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard takes a long walk along the beach. He was barely out the door before the anger dissipated and embarrassment set in, but the need to move, to be out of the confines of the house, was overwhelming.

He knows he overreacted. Jim has been overprotective of his friends for as long as Leonard has known him; since the Narada, he's been twitchier about it than usual.

It shouldn't have caught Leonard off guard when Jim's hackles went up over Rob. If Jim had been there and met the man himself, maybe things would have been different.

Still, he isn't Leonard's mother. It isn't Jim's job to police who Leonard sees. And maybe it was a good thing that they fought. Jim will take and take and take until he's made to stop. He doesn't seem to realize he does it; it's an unconscious desire, his mind reassuring itself by keeping everything he cares about as close as possible.

Leonard lost most of his friends in the divorce, and the few that remained got left behind when he left Georgia. Realizing he has not only Jim but the others, too, has been a strange experience. He isn't entirely certain what to do with them. He knows, logically, that there's a good chance he will lose at least a few in space, and the thought of that makes him sick. It isn't in his nature to let go any more than it is in Jim's.

Letting out a long breath, Leonard reluctantly resolves himself to an awkward reconciliation when he gets back.

 

**_xx_ **

 

When Bones returns, Jim is still sitting at the kitchen table. His friend's expression is somewhere between angry and wary, and it's with a heavy sense of trepidation that Jim gestures at the chair opposite him. Bones sits delicately, as if he's as uncertain of his reception as Jim is.

"I may have overstepped," Jim tells the space above Bones' shoulder.

"May have?"

He can't see the brow Bones quirks, but he knows it's quirked. "Did. I did overstep." He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

Bones doesn't pounce on that like he usually would, instead hums thoughtfully. "I get that, Jim. I do. But this here isn't Starfleet. You aren't captain of my friendships." He sits back in his chair, and Jim risks a glance up at his face. There's nothing there but weariness. "I could really go for a nap. That was a longer walk than I'm used to."

"The couch is free," Jim tells him quickly.

Bones' face pinches. "I was thinking something more suited to a human spine."

"Yeah, well, Spock and Uhura are in the bedroom, and believe me, you don't want to go in right now."

"Couple’s time?" Bones guesses.

Jim feels himself smile. "That's one way of putting it."

"Goddam Vulcan. Always does have the worst timing."

 

**_xx_ **

 

A couple days pass without incident. Leonard alternately spends time sunning himself with Uhura, rolling his eyes at Spock, and chasing Jim with aloe. It's easy and comfortable, and he feels lighter every minute he spends not thinking about space and Starfleet. Both loom like giants in his dreams, their shadows dark and inescapable. But every time he's woken up in a sweat, Jim has been curled up beside him, peacefully drooling on his pillow or muttering incomprehensible things at the ceiling.

God help him, but Leonard is getting used to it. He doesn't mind the way Jim puts his cold hands on Leonard. He's even gotten used to waking up with Jim's fists balled up in his shirt.

It's the last thing he needs, but the body wants what it wants. Leonard's happens to want to have Jim close at hand.

It's more than that, of course. It's always more than that with Jim. But goddam if Leonard is going to do something foolheaded like listen to the siren call of the curve of Jim's body, the promise of an irresistible force coming to ground him in the silent tomb that is space. Fear makes men do stupid things. Leonard has lived long enough and patched up enough men to know that.

And if it's not just fear, well... Call him a romantic, but Leonard has always favored things that have happy endings.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Bones goes to a party with Rob not quite a week after he met he guy. He leaves on his own, flatly refusing to be driven or picked up. He gives Jim a significant look as he says this, as if he knew Jim was itching to do exactly that.

It takes about half an hour of Bones' absence for Uhura to lose her patience with Jim.

"James T. Kirk, I swear to God, if you don't stop moping, I am going to kick you into the sea."

"Ocean, technically," Jim says automatically. "There's no sea here."

Spock's fingers go a shade paler where they're clasped around Uhura's hip.

Uhura herself looks perfectly calm, and that's how Jim knows he's in trouble.

He coughs. "I think I'll go for a swim."

"Excellent idea," Spock says quickly.

Swimming doesn't take Jim's mind off Bones being on his own in a stranger's house, doing who knows what. Bones is too trusting by half. And he's terrible at fighting.

There's a good-looking guy who's been eyeing Jim ever since he caught sight of him, though. That should be just the kind of distraction Jim needs.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is nursing a black eye when Leonard gets home. Uhura and Spock's hands are clean, so Leonard has to assume Jim went out and found some trouble.

"How many this time?" he asks, slipping onto the edge of the couch and pulling the bag of peas away from Jim's face to take a look at the damage. "Jesus, Jim."

Jim gives him a strained smile with strangely undamaged lips. "Just one."

"And was he especially big?" Leonard asks.

"No, but his boyfriend was."

Leonard resists the urge to knock Jim himself. "I'm not going to ask how you got into this one. How long have you had the peas on?"

"Half an hour?"

"Then it's time to take them off. I think I've got some cream that should help with the circulation and help it heal faster."

Jim shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good."

"That eye being swollen shut says another story. I'm getting the cream, and you're going to let me apply it."

Uhura snickers from where she's sitting at the breakfast bar.

"Don't encourage him," Leonard scolds.

She holds up her hands in surrender. Leonard doesn't trust it for a second. She and Jim may have come to a tentative truce, but the two of them still have a knack for antagonizing each other.

In the bedroom, Leonard finds Spock lying on his back, his eyes unfocused.

"Oh, come on."

Leonard reached to shake Spock awake, but he doesn't even get a hand on him before Spock catches his wrist.

"I am fine, Doctor," he says, his voice at least normal. "I was merely contemplating Vulcan."

"For how long?"

"What time is it?"

"Half past eight."

"Six hours, then, give or take."

Leonard pinches the bridge of his nose. "Lord save me from men and Vulcans alike," he grumbles. "You do realize that isn't healthy, don't you?"

"I was given to understand there was no wrong way to grieve."

"Congratulations, you found the exception. Come on, then. Up you get."

Spock does as he's told, a question written in the wrinkles in his forehead.

Leonard ignores that, grabbing the cream from his bag instead, and leads him into the other room. "Sit with your girlfriend," he orders. "I have to deal with this moron first. Then I'll get to you."

Regeneration cream in hand, he takes Jim by the chin with one hand and pops the top of the jar with the other. "This is going to feel warm," he says. "That's normal. Let me know if it feels hot, though. And I mean that, Jim. If you don't, you could lose the eye."

"Why not let me heal normally then?" Jim whines as Leonard smears the cream over the bruised skin and sets himself to rubbing it in.

"Because it reflects poorly on me to have people look at my captain and see a man covered in bruises when he could be whole. Now stop talking. I don't want to get this somewhere it shouldn't go."

Jim grunts, but he does shut his mouth long enough for Leonard to finish rubbing the cream in.

With that done, he rounds on Spock. "As for you, I've been willing to overlook things because I figured you'd need time, but this is it. You're losing weight, you're withdrawing, and you're spending more and more time in your head."

"Doctor, I assure you-"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you go to medical school while I wasn't looking?" Spock shakes his head. "Then you'll forgive me for not caring about your assurances. Eat some more soup, and have a breakdown or two. That's healthy."

"I'm-"

"Don't say it, man," Jim says from the couch. "Trust me. Saying you're fine when Bones says you're not is like waving a flag in front of a bull."

"Thank you, Jim," Leonard says, pleased to see Spock backing down. "How's the skin?"

"Pleasantly warm, Doctor."

"Good man."

Being a doctor entails learning how to accept when there are things beyond your control. For a doctor on a ship in space exploring the unknown, that goes double. Leonard cannot control everything. He cannot save everyone.

But he can damn well try.

 

**_xx_ **

 

They're sitting on the sand, all four of them, watching the sun set. Spock has a bowl of soup cradled in his hands and sunglasses pushed high up the bridge of his nose. Uhura is wearing Bones' leather jacket. Bones is wearing Jim's sunglasses. Jim is wearing Uhura's sunglasses. Nobody's talking, everybody's leaning against each other, and Jim hasn't been this content in a hell of a long time.

"So," he asks, knowing this will ruin the moment, "how was Rob?"

Bones tilts his head, giving the question undue thought. "He was fine," he says after a while. "I drove, so I didn't have much to drink, so I can't say the party was all that fun."

"Maybe it just needed somebody to get things started."

Bones snorts. "Maybe. We'll find out next time, won't we?"

"What?"

"Rob asked me to invite you along next time. God knows why."

Jim looks for something to say, a joke to break the sudden tension, but all he can think of is, "And you want to bring me?"

"You're my captain, aren't you?" Bones' smile is crooked. "I've got to show you off while I can. You won't be half so pretty as usual, but you'll do."

Jim smiles back, wide enough to hurt, and throws an arm around Bones' shoulders. "I'm glad you came around."

"Don't get too comfortable," Bones says. "If you embarrass me, I'll disown you."

He won't. That isn't Bones' style. He'll grouch and complain and bring it up every time he thinks Jim is going too far, but he doesn't know how to disown people. It would be like a Romulan having a calm conversation. It just wouldn't happen.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The day of the Orions' party dawns hot and humid. Jim is already out of bed when Leonard wakes up, and Leonard doesn't blame him. The thought of being near anyone as warm as a human being in this heat is repulsive.

A cold shower makes things less unbearable, but Leonard still feels disgusted when he joins the others.

"This party better have the air con on high," he says as he grabs a bowl and the cereal.

Jim just groans.

Spock sighs.

Uhura moves the ice pack from her chest to her face.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Luckily for Leonard, the party does have air conditioning, and it’s blasting. The Orion who answers the door brings a wave of cold with her.

"They're here!" she shouts over her shoulder. A shout goes up from inside. "And they brought friends!"

Uhura lifts the bottle of tequila they bought on the way, and the Orion's smile widens impossibly.

"And more drinks!"

They follow her in, and to Jim's amusement, the Orions immediately crowd around Bones. One of them in particular- notable for the bandage around her arm- comes right up and pulls Bones into a crushing hug that nearly lifts him off his feet.

As Jimlooks on, watching in amusement as Bones get hauled away by his thankful patient, a new face pops into view.

"James Kirk?"

Jim nods and sticks out his hand. "At your service."

A quick smile quirks generous lips. "It's good to see you. My name is Q."

 

**_xx_ **

 

It takes Leonard almost an hour to disengage from the happy Orions. A large reason for the delay is the discovery of a sick Orion woman too stubborn to go to a doctor- but who agrees to see Leonard after hearing the others gush about him. It takes him a while to diagnose her, but once he gets there, the symptoms are obvious.

"It's a hormonal imbalance," he declares. "Uncommon among your species, I admit, but there's no mistaking it. I'd rather have some tests to confirm it-" She hisses, and he sighs "-but if this is all you will allow, then I suggest you see an endocrinologist who specializes in Orions. You may never be able to, ah, secrete like your fellows, but the nausea, mood swings, and tenderness should be alleviated."

His patient is less than thrilled, but the others clap and clamor around him.

"This really is just a preliminary diagnosis,” Leonard protests. “It's by no means exhaustive-"

"Come back to the party!" one of them shouts, and the others nod and drag him back down the stairs.

The next thing he knows, he's sitting in a chair beside a ghost-white Jim. There's a woman dressed in a red robe and a black hat sitting in the chair across from him. Her massive metal necklace glints in the light.

"Hello, Leonard McCoy," she says brightly. "I am Q. You won't meet for a while yet, though."

"I won't- What?"

"Time traveler," Jim explains, bitterness heavy in his tone.

Leonard groans. If there's anything worse than space itself, it's time travelers. "Any chance you won't talk in riddles?"

Q lets out a peal of laughter. "Yes, you are just as surly now as you are in the world where I know you. I worried you might not be." She stops, considers. "I was sorry to hear of your death, Doctor. I know it took a toll on the surviving members of your crew."

"Surviving?" Jim asks, voice rising.

Unfazed, Q takes a sip of her brightly colored drink. "I must admit to some surprise. I was certain this timeline saw you and the captain as mates. Yet I find you are not. My friend wished me to convey something to you were that the case, but it seems I must look in another time." She sighs. “I do wish you humans would make this less of a headache.”

Curious despite himself, Leonard can't resist. "What's your friend's name?"

"Q, of course."

"Of course," Jim repeats dully.

Where Leonard has learned to accept the frustrations of time travelers, Jim remains stubbornly angry with them for not fixing all the woes of the world. Leonard can’t find in himself to blame him.

"Why don't you tell us the advice?" Leonard asks on a whim. "We may not be together, but perhaps it could be useful anyway."

Beside him, Jim throws back the rest of his beer.

Q tilts her head. "I doubt this, but all right.  The message is simple: 'Stop ignoring it'. Perhaps this makes sense to you." She shrugs and takes another sip of her drink. "It is nonsense to me."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim hates time travelers.

"Why are they never fixing things?" he growls at Uhura. The two of them are sitting in the backseat of Jim's rental, waiting for Bones and Spock to extract themselves. "All they do is fiddle with little things and talk nonsense."

Uhura makes a noise of agreement. "The worst," she hiccups.

"And why would she just assume Bones and I aren't together? We could be!"

"You so could!"

"I love Bones," Jim confesses loudly. "More than anybody. But he doesn't love me back."

"Doesn't- hic- love you back?" Uhura echoes, her features scrunching.

"Not the right way," Jim sighs.

Just then the front doors open, and Bones and Spock slide into their seats. Spock's cheeks are a little green, and Uhura coos as she reaches up and pinches one.

"You are so cute! I love you," she says on a sigh. "And I am going to fuck you so hard tomorrow."

Bones makes a retching noise and quickly turns the key.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim wakes up in the middle of the night with a burning need to empty his bladder. He fumbles free of the bed, stumbles his way into the bathroom. The lights make his eyes hurt, so he doesn't dawdle. He briefly considers not washing his hands- it's not like he used them for much of anything- but a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Bones tells him to wash his damn hands. So he does.

When he gets back to the bed, he faces a dilemma. Bones has moved in his sleep and flopped onto his stomach so he's taking up nearly all the bed. Jim's first instinct is to wake him up. But that would be mean, he reasons, still a touch tipsy. And it would run the risk of waking up Uhura and Spock, who are currently snoring away in a pile one bed over.

With no one else to consult, Jim turns to the Bones-voice.

Just curl up with him, it advises. Jim is initially suspicious, but the idea is practical. So he shrugs and crawls back into bed, plastering himself to Bones' side.

Bones is warm and solid, and Jim happily throws an arm over him.

This, he knows, is perfection.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is snoring. This is nothing new, but usually the sound isn't right in Leonard's ear. Opening his eyes, he blinks unhappily against the sunlight. He hardly drank, but he's been so tired lately, it's no wonder he passed out the moment he lay down.

What is a wonder is Jim. He's lying on his side, cuddled up with Leonard, their legs tangled together. One of his hands is holding fast to Leonard's tank. There's drool hanging from the corner of his open mouth.

He looks, for lack of a better word, peaceful.

A still Jim is usually a wounded one. Yet here he is, asleep almost in Leonard's arms, and as quiet as he gets.

Q's words ring in his ears. _Stop ignoring it._

Ignorance is the only defense Leonard has left. Jim walked through Leonard's walls as if they didn't exist. He ducked under the short words as if he didn't notice them. He found Leonard's ragged heart, and rather than grabbing it for himself and setting off Leonard's suspicions, he set about bolstering it with friendship- Jim's own and others'.

There is very little Leonard would not do for Jim.

But there are plenty of things he won't do for himself.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim wakes to an empty bed. He can hear Bones speaking lowly in the next room, but somehow, that just makes the empty bed seem colder. The sheets still smell like Bones; lingering would be the definition of a bad idea. He's already feeling raw. Adding the jumble of feelings he has for his best friend just fills his gut with dread.

Letting out a sigh and rolling to his feet, Jim heads for the bathroom. In the shower, he considers blasting the cold water and moving on, but sequestered as he is in the shower stall, he feels divorced from the rest of the house. Safer.

So it's not a big deal with he turns the heat up and gets his hands soapy. It's not a big deal when he leans an arm against the front wall, not a big deal when he spreads his legs, not a big deal when he puts a hand on himself. It's nothing that matters, even if his thoughts stray toward firm shoulders in medical blue. The slur of a drawl gone lazy with liquor. A voice saying his name. Jim, Jim, Jim...

"Jim!"

The sound is so unexpected, Jim nearly brains himself on the wall.

"What?" he shouts hoarsely, dick still in hand.

A beat passes before Uhura shouts back, "You've been in there for almost half an hour! You weren't making any noise, and we wanted to make sure you hadn't killed yourself!"

Jim bites his tongue. He'd been so close, and he could get there again- especially with Bones on the other side of the door- but he just doesn't have it in him. "Not dead," he says tiredly. "Just enjoying the water while I can."

Uhura huffs, and with a parting tap on the door, she walks off.

 _Fuck_ , Jim thinks and turns the water as cold as it gets.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim has been acting strange. Not his usual strange- just the opposite. He's acting normal. No appearing out of nowhere just to nudge Leonard with his elbow. No flirting with Uhura just to annoy the couple. No eating super sugary foods in order to make Leonard twitch. He even called Leonard by his given name earlier. It's damn concerning.

It must have something to do with Q, Leonard decides. Jim is probably thinking about his father and how quickly he's approaching the age George was when he died.

Bar fights are by no means a medical treatment. Nor is encouraging a patient, or a friend, to overindulge. But sometimes a treatment has to be tweaked to suit a patient's unique situation.

"Isn't Jaylah throwing another party tonight?" he asks Spock and Uhura around six in the evening. Jim is in the bathroom, again.

Spock tilts his head, looking troubled. "She did mention a future party. Are you suggesting we attend?"

"That was the idea."

Uhura hums. "If we're going to Jaylah's, you're going to have to let me dress you."

Leonard frowns. "Excuse me?"

"You honestly think she won't drag you upstairs and force you into a stranger's pants again?" Uhura asks, voice taking on a challenging edge. "Because she will, Leonard. She absolutely will."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is starting to hate parties. He's sitting on the lumpiest couch he's ever had the misfortune to pick, sipping at his third beer, and watching everyone around him have fun. There's an actual dance floor set up, and all sorts of couples are on it, bumping and grinding and even, in one case, slow dancing.

Bones isn't dancing, but he isn't alone either. Uhura did a good job dressing him, and Jim isn’t the only one who’s noticed.

Speaking of, Spock's girlfriend plops herself down on the free cushion next to Jim- recently vacated by a bored Andorian- and turns those sharp eyes on him.

"No company?" she asks, sounding surprised.

"Go away, Nyota."

Instead, she gives him a sad look. "You really do love him, don't you?" she asks softly. Jim isn't surprised she remembers his drunk babbling. He said words; it's only natural that Uhura remembers them. Especially given how much he wishes she didn’t.

He hangs his head, and she puts a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Jim. That is a very stupid thing to do."

"Gee, thanks. I hadn't realized," Jim snaps, or tries to. The words come out too heavy, too tired.

Across the room, Bones is leaning in to talk to a pretty woman in a slinky dress that barely reaches mid-thigh. She's got a hand on Bones' arm, and they're both smiling. She's got long hair, Jim notes distantly. Jocelyn had long hair, too. Bones told him about how he used to play with it back when things were good, how he loved to feel the soft strands flowing through his fingers.

As always seems to be the case with Bones, Jim falls short of the mark.

Bones looks over, then, and spots Jim sitting with Uhura. He raises one brow in question. Jim shrugs and throws his friend a half smile. Bones' other brow joins the first, and a moment later, he's saying something to the woman, his eyes still heavy on Jim. She looks decidedly put out, but reaches into her purse for a pen and writes something down Bones' forearm.

Then Bones is making his way over, tumbler held loosely in one hand. He sits on the arm of the couch and raises his free hand to Jim's forehead. His hand is cool and lingers on Jim’s skin.

"You don't feel like you've got a fever,” he says, turning Jim’s head from side to side, eyes narrowed. “Uhura?"

She gives him a flat look. "I'm fine, Doctor. I haven't seen Spock in a while, though, and I want to be sure he isn't trying to outdrink Jaylah. Excuse me."

Bones nods, because he's Bones and he has only ever gotten along with Uhura.

"You gonna tell me what's bothering you, or do I have to guess?"

"I'm fine," Jim grumbles.

"Bullshit."

For a moment, Jim sees red. He launches himself to his feet, whirls on Bones, ready to throw a punch, to lash out. He's in an impossible situation, backed into a corner with no escape, and all he can think to do is fight. But instead of an enemy, all he sees is Bones. Dark eyes and messy hair, wearing Jim's t-shirt, he's simultaneously the most dangerous person Jim has ever met and the safest. The hands waiting on Bones' lap have put Jim back together countless times. Will put him together countless times more. All the fire in Bones' chest serves to do is warm; being close to him and his sharp tongue is like holding your hands to a campfire.

"You done?" Bones asks slowly. "Or are you gonna take a swing at me? I only ask because we'll need to stop at a pharmacy and pick up some more supplies if we both get hurt. Try not to hit both my eyes, if you can. I'll need at least one to write the report."

It occurs to Jim that he's been staring for too long, but all he can find it in himself to do is let out a long breath and force himself to relax.

Bones must sense, in that uncanny way of his, that Jim is done, because he gets to his feet and walks over to Jim's side. Slinging an arm around Jim's shoulders, he pulls them close. "Time to go," he says, and Jim nods.

They manage to get to the car without incident, and Jim allows himself to be arranged in the backseat. He's happy to lie down; the world is unsteady under him.

Bones gets into the driver's seat, and a moment later, the engine roars to life.

Jim spends the entire time watching the side of Bones' head and his shoulder, reassured by the familiar profile and Bones' low curses as he tries to navigate the little village's tiny streets.

It's easy to close his eyes and pretend this is okay. This is enough, he reminds himself as he drifts off. He'll take what Bones will give, and it will be enough.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim falls asleep on the way back. He's too tall by half to be curled up in the backseat like a child, but somehow- Leonard is going to guess through the power of alcohol- he manages it. That in itself is hardly a problem. If anything, it's a blessing. Drunk Jim tends to fiddle with things, and the last thing Leonard needs to do is scrape Jim off the highway. The problem presents itself when they get back to the house.

Leonard spends about five minutes watching Jim snore peacefully before he sighs and reconciles himself to the fact that he's going to have to carry his friend in.

Jim is a solid weight at the best of times. Out cold, he's the worst kind of dead weight. The only silver-lining is he doesn't complain when Leonard tugs him into a sloppy fireman's carry.

A few unsteady steps see them inside. Another few see them to the couch, and that's it. Leonard isn't going to break his back carrying around a grown man. Even if that man is Jim.

Unfortunately, Jim isn't the only one who drank, and once Leonard bends over enough to drop his friend onto the sofa, he just keeps going.

"Well, shit," he says as he lands shoulder first on the floor. He braces a hand on the edge of the nearest cushion to try to haul himself up but only manages to lift himself up two inches before dropping back down.

Jim snuffles into the throw pillow and groans, "Bones."

"What?" Leonard asks.

"C'mere."

"You come here."

"'Kay."

And the bastard does. Just heaves himself over in a clumsy barrel roll and crashes down onto Leonard.

"Damn it, Jim!"

Jim merely lets out a grunt, the sound muffled by Leonard's shoulder. It could be an apology. It could be a reprimand for Leonard not being a softer landing pad. It could just be a grunt.

"You better not puke on me," Leonard warns.

Jim doesn't answer, and Leonard, after a while, falls asleep to the familiar sound of Jim's easy breathing.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"Oh. I apologize."

Spock stepped on him. Jim is barely awake, only recently pulled out of sleep by a sharp pain in one of his feet, but he knows two things. One: sitting up was a bad idea. Two: Spock just stepped on him. "What the hell, man? That hurt."

"Speaking of hurting," Bones grumbles from under him. "Get your elbow out of my spine."

The thing is, Jim doesn't want to move. He wants to go back to five minutes ago, when he was happily drooling on Bones' back, his hands full of Bones, the swell of Bones' backside settled perfectly between his hips. Bones was sleeping, too, mumbling incoherently and shifting slightly every once in a while. And if Spock hadn't decided to become a clumsy pain in the ass today, Jim could have kept hat feeling for who knows how much longer.

"Jim."

"Right. Elbow, spine, not good."

Bones makes an unseemly noise of pleasure as Jim moves his elbow half an inch to the left.

"Was there something you wanted, Spock?"

"Only to alert you to the fact that Nyota made breakfast. It's waffles."

Beneath him, Bones whimpers.

"I think we're good, Spock," Jim mumbles at him. He rearranges himself on Bones' back, and Bones, for whatever reason, lets him. "Thank Uhura for us."

Spock says something in reply, but Jim doesn't hear it. He's already nodding off, nestled comfortable atop Bones.

 

**_xx_ **

 

They take pictures. When Jim and Leonard finally get up and pretend to be functioning adults, both of them find their PADDs filled with messages from people making all sorts of bizarre comments. Or so it seems until Jim checks his mail and waves his PADD in Leonard's face.

Objectively, it's not a bad photo. Jim and Leonard are both reasonably dressed, and the way it's framed keeps anyone just looking at it from knowing that Jim and Leonard are lying on the floor.

The second photo, not so much.

By the fourth, Leonard gives up and hands the device back to Jim.

"There are going to be a hell of a lot of jokes about us being a couple," he says.

Jim, rather than laughing it off, cocks his head. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

Leonard freezes. "Excuse me?"

"Would it be so bad if you and I were together?" Jim shrugs. "We're good at being friends. You know all my shit. I know all of yours. We work well together. There have been relationships founded on worse."

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Leonard isn't ready for this. He's never ready for anything Jim does, but he is especially, decidedly, not ready for this.

And just like that, Jim disappears. Leonard can practically see him pulling back, retreating into the safety of his own space. "Just thinking aloud, Bones. Nothing to worry about."

He walks off after that, as if he hasn't just dropped a grenade in Leonard's lap and left with the pin.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is a goddam moron.

Of all the stupid shit to say...

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard already knew. The signs were all there, and he's old enough to recognize them. So yes, he knew Jim was thinking about him in ways that weren't exactly platonic. But Jim's a young guy, one who hasn't had much stability in his life. Their friendship was probably the first long term bond Jim had formed in years. Of course some signals were going to get crossed. Of course there would be some emotional sorts of mess. Leonard went into this fully aware that the unrelenting energy Jim has would find a way to bite the kid on the ass. It was expected.

Leonard just didn't expect it to go this far. Jim getting a crush on him was one thing. Leonard's psych training covered transference and the many ways lonely, isolated people can misread relationships in a bid not to be on their own. They're all temporary. Every single one fades, given time and the introduction of other sources of support. Which Jim has. Everyone who was on the Enterprise, especially the top officers, bonded with Jim. He's got pals in every class now, ones who like him for being him, reputation and family name be damned.

In short: Jim's misplaced infatuation ought to have faded by now.

So why the hell hasn't it?

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock finds him sitting outside on the beach. Jim didn't bother grabbing a towel, just dropped his ass down on the sand and started a staring contest with the ocean. He did grab sunglasses first, though. They're Bones’.

He can't escape the man.

"I didn't ask for this," Jim tells the water.

In the corner of his eye, Spock nods. "Nor did I ask to fall for Nyota. Love is, I believe, rarely so considerate as to ask for our thoughts."

"Bones doesn't think it's love. He's probably diagnosing me as we speak."

"Perhaps."

Spock doesn't press the conversation, and Jim finds himself relaxing. The sun is out, there's a cool breeze, and if he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself he made it all up. Bones is sitting inside on the couch, hair tousled like it always is when he's not working, old fashioned book in hand, completely clueless about how Jim feels. They're still friends, and there's no uncomfortable admission to strain that.

But he can't quite do it. He remembers the confusion on Bones' face vividly. The denial was there; Jim just got out before Bones could say it.

"I was deeply troubled when a Nyota first came to me," Spock says out of nowhere. He isn't looking at Jim, but it's clear that he's the intended recipient of the words. "I was in a position of power over her. Her work was impressive; if our relationship was made public, it would all be called into question. And, yes, she is much younger than I am. Even considering her as a person to engage with romantically felt like damning us both."

"Yeah, but Bones and I aren't-"

"Doctor McCoy perceives there would be an imbalance in your relationship, were it to transition from friendship to romance. He is not unwise to be cautious."

Jim's heart sinks another few inches deeper into his gut. "You think we'd be bad for each other."

"On the contrary," Spock says firmly, "I believe the two of you would be good for each other."

"You do?"

"I do." Turning his head, he looks Jim straight on. "The doctor may not see it yet, as I did not see with Uhura, but I believe there to be benefits to a romance between you."

"How did Uhura convince you?"

Spock shakes his head, a rueful smile curling his lips. "She provoked me. It was, according to her, the only language capable of penetrating my thick skull."

That could work, Jim realizes. Provocation is absolutely a skill he has, and Bones is easily riled.  All he needs is a little time and a few parties.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Uhura's first words are, "You know he's not going to take this lying down."

Leonard sighs. "I do."

"He's going to try to provoke you."

"I figured that."

"And you're going to let him?"

"I am."

"Why not just say yes now?"

"He needs to know it isn't purely carnal," Leonard says easily. "Right now, that's where his head's at. I need it to be elsewhere."

Uhura shakes her head. "He's going to sleep around, rub it in your face. If you say you want him after that, it's going to look like jealousy."

"Not if I do it right."

"And when you don't?"

"You should try being less negative. It's bad for your health."

"I've been where Jim is," Uhura snaps, ignoring him. "You need to be careful with him right now, McCoy. He's not half as untouchable as he seems."

"I'm always careful."

"Bullshit. You're just as reckless as Jim is. You're just better at hiding it."

Leonard rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes. "What do you suggest, then?"

The corners of her mouth pull up. "You'll see."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Rob is old. Not geriatric, but certainly… aged. He’s handsome despite it. Strong features, full head of hair with a few streaks of gray, firm muscles. Worst of all, he’s friendly. When he spots Bones and Jim, he smiles widely and comes trotting over. He puts an arm around Bones in an athletic bro hug, though, which is strange as hell. Bones seems thrown by it, too, but gamely goes along.

“You must be Jim,” Rob says brightly. He holds out a hand, which Jim shakes. “Great to meet you. Len has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.”

Bones gives him a look that clearly says Jim’s reply had better be amicable, so Jim bites back the suggestion that everybody seems to think they know him before they meet him. “I look forward to getting to know you in return,” he says instead, pasting on a smile.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The party is in full, and Leonard is taking a break on the porch. He has a glass of whisky in one hand, the sunset before him. Jim and Rob have, by some miracle, been getting along. They’ve been talking almost all night.

Leonard isn’t sure that’s a good thing, but he isn’t about to stick his nose in that hornet’s nest.

He’s been standing there, leaning on the railing, for a while when the door slides open behind him and someone comes out.

“Len!” Rob says, a touch too loud. “You didn’t tell me Kirk was so funny!”

Leonard snorts. “Jim’s a lot of things.”

“And funny is just one of them. He’s quite a guy, your friend.”

That’s probably the best description of Jim out there. _Quite a guy_.

“Yeah, he’s something.”

Rob shakes his head, and when he stops, he gives Leonard a strange look. “He’s really taken with you, isn’t he?”

“Excuse me?”

“Kirk. He’s really- He likes you a lot, doesn’t he?” Rob’s expression turns wry. “I don’t think anybody’s ever looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“That’s not-”

Rob claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t waste it, man. It’s not every day a genuine superhero falls for you.”

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is sitting on the bed he shares with Bones, head in his hands, when Spock comes in and arranges himself on the other bed.

"Jim," he says after a moment, "when I told you that Uhura provoked me, I did not mean sexually."

Tired after yet another night of unsuccessful Bones-baiting, Jim groans. "What the hell other kind of provoking is there?"

He can practically feel the judgment. "In my case, it was intellectual."

"You think I should, what, tell Bones some riddles? Talk like Q did in endless, meaningless circles?"

"As you know, that is not what I meant." Spock shifts. "I do not know what sort of provocation will work on Dr. McCoy. Or if it will work at all. What I do know, however, is that I found Uhura most irresistible when she was simply being her natural self, and I suspect the doctor will have a similar view."

"Spock, I've _been_ being me, and it hasn't accomplished anything."

"True, but was Leonard previously aware of the intensity of your feelings?"

He was not, as Spock well knows. "Look, man. I'm tired, all right? I've tried everything, and it just isn't working. Bones won't bite."

Spock looks uncertain. "Have you tried speaking with him?"

"I already told you-"

"No, you did not. You told Leonard a series of statements that could be construed as an admission of romantic interest but were not. Also, you did not speak with him. You spoke _at_ him. There is a difference."

"How did you learn so much about talking?" Jim asks, rather than acknowledge Spock's words.

The reply is as dry as Jim expects. "My partner is a linguist."

 

**_xx_ **

 

"So," Uhura begins, and Leonard takes a quick swallow of his beer. The sun went down a while ago, and there's a creeping chill in the air. Leonard likes it out on the beach, though, so he's happily sitting in the sand, feet in the water.

"Do we have to do this?" he asks, just in case.

She flips her hair over her shoulder in answer, not bothering to vocalize a reply. "You've let him get the fucking around out of the way. Now what?"

"You're the one with the plan."

"My plan already ran its course. The rest is up to you, McCoy. Are you going to do this with Jim or not?"

Leonard takes another, deeper swallow. "Didn't realize you were such a fan of us."

"I'm not. But I do think the two of you might be able to keep each other in check." Uhura sighs and hooks her elbow over Leonard's shoulder. "Maybe I'm just more aware of it because I've got Spock, but I don't think people do well on our own." He doesn't miss the way her eyes flicker to the bottle in his hands. "You've been drinking more."

"I'm on vacation."

"I'm not talking about now."

Leonard sighs. "I'm tired, Uhura. Maybe the higher ups are right. Maybe I can't handle space. But I won't know 'till I'm up there, and by then, it will be too late."

"Jim knows what that's like." She leans into him, and Leonard lets himself lean back. "You don't have to do it alone."

"I can't lay it all on the kid either," he reminds her. "I've got to stand on my own two feet."

"He isn't a kid anymore, Leonard. He's done a lot of growing up since the _Narada_." Huffing a breath that could almost be a laugh, Uhura lays her head on his shoulder. "You have no idea how much it appalls me to say that."

Leonard snorts, reminded of the days when Jim would come to his quarters and complain that someone turned him down "because Uhura said to". He did buckle down after the destruction of Vulcan and the defeat of Nero. Somewhat.

"I'd feel better if he were older."

"You know as well as I do that space years don't work like earth ones. You'll both be old and gray before you know it."

She's probably right. Jim will make an excellent captain, the _Enterprise_ is as quick and hearty as they come, and she will have the finest crew in the fleet. If anyone has a chance of living long enough to see their hair go, it's Jim Kirk.

"You might have a point," he concedes.

Uhura doesn't mock him, doesn't push him to open up and let love in or any of the other things the people around him have told him to do. She simply stretches her legs out and puts her feet in the water, the two of them silently watching the moonlight bounce off the water.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is already in bed when Bones comes in. One bed over, Spock and Uhura are already in bed, too, and well on their way to falling asleep. Jim, on the other hand, is wide awake. His breath is loud in his ears he listens to the sounds Bones makes as he gets ready for bed. Clothes dropping to the floor, Bones grabbing them and folding them. The door swinging open. Water running. Bones humming to himself as he brushes his teeth. The light switching off. The door clicking shut. Bones' feet padding across the carpet.

Cool air rushes in when Bones lifts the blankets, and Jim can't help but grunt- the bed was finally warming up.

"Sorry," Bones says, not sounding apologetic in the least. "And scoot over."

"If I do, I'll fall off."

"You're young. Sleeping on the floor will build character."

"Would you lie down already? You're letting all the heat out."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim knows the moment Bones gets in because they're suddenly pressed together, back to back. Bones is warmer than any of the blankets, and it's all Jim can do not to melt into him. He limits himself to sliding his feet up and delicately pressing them to Bones' calves.

"Fuck, Jim!" Bones yelps, drawing a sharp breath through his teeth and jerking away.

"We're right here," Uhura whines. "Can't you wait until we leave like civilized human beings?"

"His feet are cold," Bones growls. "Grow up."

"I concur," Spock says unnecessarily. "Every time the doctor and Jim have shared a bed, the doctor has hissed less than one minute after he gets under the sheets."

"Well, that ain't creepy at all."

"All of you shut up," Jim says over his shoulder. "I'm trying to sleep."

Bones groans, but the bed moves as he slowly stretches out again, the heat from his skin soaking into Jim's back.

Jim sinks into it, and Bones, happily. Tomorrow he'll make his move, but for now, it's enough just to have Bones close.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim is jerking off.

A person unused to Jim's habits might question how Leonard knows this, and it would be a fair question. The answer lies in experience. Specifically, the experience of Leonard getting worried one day when Jim was taking too long in the shower and not responding. In hindsight, kicking the door in might have been excessive. At the time, his only thought had been making sure Jim wasn't dead. And, as usual, Jim wasn't. He just had his head under the spray and his dick in his hand.

Leonard backtracked out of there as fast as he could, but he would be a liar if he said he never thought about that run-in. Jim is a sight even in the eye-searing red Academy uniform. Wet and hard and breathing heavily, he was... something else.

Just because he was certain Jim would outgrow his crush didn't mean Leonard couldn't enjoy the thought of being the center of Jim's attention.

And now Leonard knows not to panic when Jim takes half an hour to "wash his hair".

Today, Jim has been in the shower for more than half an hour, and he was already in there when Leonard woke up.

What's he doing in there? Leonard thinks, not a little grumpy. Spock and Uhura left early to go sightseeing, and Leonard is looking forward to spending the day lying on the beach with Jim. Whatever it is that's between them will hold for a while longer, and Leonard really just wants to stop thinking for a while.

He doesn't see the flaw in this idea until Jim comes out of the bathroom, pink-cheeked and dressed in low-slung trunks. His hair is lying flat against his scalp, still wet from the shower, and when he catches Leonard's eye, he smiles one of his wide, genuine smiles. The type it took Leonard almost half a year to discover. They're still a rarity this close to graduation, but they're coming more frequently now. Give him a command, and he'll probably learn to grin like a damn demon.

Leonard swallows hard. "You do realize you're just going to need to take another shower when we get back in, right?"

Jim shrugs. "You ready?"

"No, because I haven't eaten. And neither have you."

"Aw, Bones-"

"Shut up. At least grab a protein bar, will ya?"

Jim rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Leonard follows him into the kitchen and reluctantly accepts the bar he's handed. "I made lemonade last night. Pour two glasses of it for me."

"Two?"

"You're drinkin', too, darlin'."

Lifting his brows, Jim grabs the glasses and the lemonade. "I'll just head out and set up."

"You do that."

Despite his better judgment, Leonard watches Jim go. There's a swagger in his step, a lively swish of his hips as he steps out through the sliding doors. Suspicion immediately curls at the base of Leonard's skull. Jim doesn't bounce like that unless he's planning something.

It only takes a few moments to pour the drinks, but Leonard manages to draw it out into at least five minutes, not ready to face whatever Jim has in mind.

By the time he joins Jim outside, Jim has two chairs set up under an umbrella. He doesn't comment on Leonard's dawdling, just accepts his drink and takes a quick sip.

"You gonna swim?" Leonard asks as he settles into his chair. He pointedly hands over a tube of sunscreen.

Jim makes an indecisive noise even as he accepts the tube. "Maybe, maybe not. We'll see."

That doesn't inspire hope. If anything, it inspires the curl of suspicion to tighten into a knot of concern. Jim is definitely working on something, and it isn't good news for Leonard.

They sit in the shade together for a long while, Jim sitting back in his chair and Leonard reading through a new study on his PADD. Despite his sense of impending catastrophe, it's actually nice. The sun is warm. The sky is clear. Jim isn't in danger.  Nobody is dying. The only screaming comes from the gulls. It's a nice, normal day on earth. And Leonard intends to enjoy it.

He even manages that for a little while, at least until Jim decides it's time for a swim. He gets up and stretches, twisting and sighing with an enthusiasm that makes Leonard's gut twist. Jim's always been athletic, but he's gotten trimmer from cutting back on the booze and dragging himself to the top tier of the Academy's fitness regimes. The work he puts into it shows in the long lines of muscle that bend and flex as he rolls his shoulders, shimmies his hips.

It's not that Leonard hasn't noticed this before. Jim came to him a number of times looking for ways he could get more out of the work he was putting in. But this is the first time Leonard is seeing Jim as someone other than a roommate, as someone who might be seriously looking back at Leonard. The feeling isn't entirely bad, even if it does remind him that Jim is working up to something.

"You should come, too," Jim says when he finally stops squirming.

Leonard shrugs. "I'm good here."

"Suit yourself."

Jim nods and makes for the water. Leonard doesn't watch him get in, electing instead to return to his PADD and the study, which is why he doesn't notice until it's too late that Jim abandoned his trek to the water and came back.

"What are you-"

"I was going to be smart about this," Jim grumbles, looking miserable from where he's standing at the foot of the chair. "I was going to be subtle and convince you that I'm serious by taking my time, but you know what, Bones?"

He seems to want a reply to that, so Leonard asks, "What, Jim?"

"Slow and steady just isn't my style. I want you. You know I want you. So what I want to know is, do you want me back?"

Leonard swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. "It's not that simple."

"Yeah, it is. I can see you trying to hide behind Starfleet, but if Spock and Uhura can manage it, so can we."

"Jim, please."

But Jim shakes his head. "I need you, Bones. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that, but it's true. I can handle being friends if you tell me no. I can shut this all away and try to forget it. But I need you to give me an answer one way or the other."

Jim is practically vibrating, no doubt wishing he could pace or run or do something to work off all the nervous energy. But he doesn't do any of that. He stands where he is, perfectly still, his attention zeroed in on Leonard.

The answer is obvious. Leonard just isn't ready to say it. He's still getting over Jocelyn. He's bracing himself against losing friends in space. He's busy learning a hundred lifetimes' worth of knowledge in a couple years. He's damaged goods, and Jim deserves better.

He's taking to long to reply, but Jim isn't moving. He's standing there, fists clenched, ready for another rejection, and damn it. Leonard can't be that person.

A little selfishness can endanger the whole of a ship. Leonard lost a planet, though, and Starfleet ought to expect a man like him to hold onto what little comes his way.

"All right," he says, swallowing hard.

Jim doesn't relax. "All right as in you have an answer, or all right as in let's do this?"

"All right as in come here, you ass."

Jim does. Expression lifting, he doesn't waste any time in straddling Leonard's lap and curling in close. "I've wanted you almost from the moment we met."

"You've got questionable taste, kid."

"Stop talking."

The kiss is sweet from the lemonade, warm from the way Jim leans into him. Raising a hand to cup his face feels like second nature. Fitting the other to the curve of Jim's waist is like coming home. Both of Jim's hands are in Leonard's hair. His hips stutter against Leonard's as Jim tries to press closer still, as if even a millimeter of space between them is too much.

"Take it easy," Leonard pants when he pulls away. "We aren't the only ones out here."

"I was thinking about you earlier," Jim purrs. "When I was in the shower. I do that a lot, you know."

"Jesus, Jim. I-"

"You've got nice hands, Bones. Real nice. I like the way you take care of them."

There's an undercurrent there, a parallel Jim wants him to draw, but all Leonard can't think about is the scratch of Jim's stubble against his palm, the generous curve of his ass, the shiver when Leonard slides the hand on Jim's waist lower. He leans in for another kiss, and Jim meets him halfway. It's a sweet kiss, but one that Jim quickly turns demanding. His tongue slides along Leonard's. He pushes his pelvis to Leonard's belly, the hard line of his cock unmistakable.

Leonard gives the hand on his ass a squeeze, and Jim moans.

"We gotta go inside," Leonard says against Jim's lips.

Jim hums but makes no move to get up.

"Jim."

"Mm?"

"We are not doing this on the beach."

Jim only rolls his hips and tightens his grip on Leonard's hair. He isn't going anywhere, clearly. Not of his own volition.

So Leonard uses his own. It's a tricky thing, getting his feet under him when Jim is doing his level best to kiss him senseless, but Leonard manages it, if only by tilting his head so Jim has to settle for his neck.

On the bright side, Jim lets out a low groan when he figures out what Leonard is doing and wraps his legs tight around Leonard's hips.

"I want you to fuck me," he pants as Leonard stumbles his way to the house. "I know you've got supplies in your bag. It'll be good, Bones. It'll be so fucking good."

"Stop distracting me," Leonard whines, and Jim pinches one of his nipples. "Jim!"

"'Ve wanted to do that for so long. Why're you always so covered up? Didn't see you without a shirt for almost half year, nearly drove me crazy wondering."

"Very romantic."

"Hey, Bones, remember that time you caught me jerking off in your shower?"

"Jim, please. Just ten more steps."

"I used to wish you'd stayed. Watched me finish. Or gave me some help. Then I'd pull you into the shower and make you come so hard you never look at anybody but me."

Leonard hits the bed with his shins, but he barely notices as he and Jim tumble onto the bed.

"I'm a doctor," he says as he gets settled between Jim's thighs. "It's in my job description to look at other people."

"Not the way you look at me. Fuck, I really hated that Rob guy-"

"Please don't bring other people up when we're in bed."

"Not even good looking ones with big-"

Leonard kisses that awful awful sentence to a stop. He doesn't want to think about where it was going or why. He just wants to undo the laces on their shorts and get Jim naked. But of course Jim chose the most difficult pair of shorts to get off.

"Damn it, Jim. You couldn't have chosen ones with an elastic waistband?"

Jim stares up at him for a long moment, eyes stupidly wide, then tilts his head back and laughs. It isn't a chuckle; what Jim lets out is a full-throated shout of amusement. It shakes through him to the point that tears start running down his face. "I should have known you'd be grumpy in bed, too," he says when he finally calms down.

"Lift your hips, would you?" Leonard says, sweet as anything, and which only sets Jim off again. Only this time, Leonard feels himself chuckling along, too.

It feels right to be happy like this with Jim. After everything they've survived, with everything they have yet to face, it's good that the two of them can lie in bed together and laugh.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Sex, it turns out, is one of those things Bones is almost scarily good at. He's preternaturally patient, his fingers gentle as he opens Jim up and his mouth hot where he it presses kisses to the sensitive skin of Jim's inner thighs. Seeing Bones' eyes half-closed, the color almost entirely replaced by black, is a new experience, one that makes Jim's heart race. But Bones will not be hurried. He just presses another kiss to Jim's leg and rubs his cheek over a spot that's already starting to bruise.

Jim's had bruises before. But none of them was ever left as deliberately as this. Each one is the result of minutes of Bones worrying at the skin with his teeth and tongue, his eyes cast up to Jim's face. There will be a sea of them later, from knee to groin.

The thought alone makes Jim's face heat. He's going to have fun explaining these in the gym.

When Bones finally pushes in, he lets out a breathy noise Jim wants to save for the rest of his life. This Bones isn't like the one Jim knows. His eyes are soft, his touch slow as if he's savoring every second. His hair is messy from Jim's fingers. He's breathing hard, yet he keeps mumbling praise.

"That's it, Jim," he says, voice hushed. "So good, so good. God, you're so good."

He isn't the first vocal person Jim has bedded, but he is the first to brush Jim's hair out of his face as he speaks. He's the first to pause and look down at Jim in open wonder.

It's odd. But it's not necessarily bad.

When Bones leans down for a sloppy kiss, Jim lets one hand let go of Bones' back in favor running through his hair. Without all the product it takes to get it to obey the Academy's strict, if weakly enforced, dress code, it's soft and flows around Jim's fingers. Tugging on it makes Bones moan, so Jim does that, just to watch Bones shudder like he's made of putty.

"You're cute when you fuck," Jim observes.

Bones grunts, eyes sliding open a touch more, but keeps up the steady rhythm he's been following.

Someday, Jim is going to find out what it takes to get Bones to be a little rough with him. There's too much emotion running beneath the surface for Bones to play the sweetheart all the time. But that's a long time from now. He likes the gentle way Bones rocks into him, the way he worries at his lip, just fine.

When Jim comes, it's with Bones' hand around his dick and Bones' voice in his ear, murmuring nonsense. Jim's vision goes white, his breath stuttering in his throat, and everything goes quiet for a long moment before he crashes back into himself. Bones has gone still above him. His arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself up, though; when he slowly sits back and pulls out, Jim can't help but groan. Bones immediately touches Jim's hole, clinically feeling for injury as if he isn't still hard.

Jim sighs and allows the inspection for a minute. Bones won't normally be pulled away when he's looking someone over, but Jim gets a hand in his hair and tugs him away.

Bones' head hits the pillow with a sigh. "You don't have to-" he starts to say when Jim closes his hand around his dick, but Jim rolls his eyes.

"Let me have this," he says. "I want to touch you."

Bones nods, his dark eyes darting down to where Jim is jacking him. Maybe it's just the moment, but Jim could swear Bones was built to fit his hand. He watches his hand move along Bones' shaft just as sharply as Bones does. It may not be the best handjob, but it makes Bones' breath hitch and his hips twitch, so it can't be that bad.

When he comes, he spills on Jim's belly, just like Jim did, and some part of Jim's brain purrs at the thought of being marked all over.

They ought to get up and clean up, but Jim doesn't want to move and Bones doesn't make him. They lie together, Jim on his back and Bones on his side, sweaty and panting and gross, and it's the best Jim has ever felt in his life.

He takes Bones' hand in his, and Bones tangles their fingers together, pulls their hands onto his chest. Contentment is practically pouring off him. His eyes are closed, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.

Jim lets his eyes fall shut, too, and allows the soft sounds of Bones' breathing lull him into a deep, restful sleep.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"Jesus Christ!"

Leonard wakes with a start, eyes flying open and hands coming up defensively even as he sits up.

He quickly realizes that rather than being in danger of being killed, it's just Uhura standing in the doorway, looking disgusted.

He frowns. "What's wrong with you?"

"Put some pants on, you animal!"

Leonard looks down. Then over at Jim, who's sitting up, too, also undressed. His bare thighs are covered in purple marks whose creation Leonard is rapidly recalling.

"Oh, Christ."

Jim gives him a wary look. "Something the matter?"

"Other than one of my friends seeing my dick out?" Leonard asks sourly. "I'm not regretting this, Jim. Just the decision not to clean up."

The tension melts out of Jim immediately, replaced by a toothy grin. "I can fix that."

 

**_xx_ **

 

_Epilogue_

 

With his shift finally over, Jim gratefully leaves the bridge and returns to his quarters. He strips mechanically, his mind and body aching from the days of ceremony and being on constant alert. Bones hadn't liked Jim going down with Spock as his sole support, and he's going to be extra smug when he sees the shape Jim is in after warning him about "extended stressful situations". For now, Jim is just glad to be alone.

Naturally, this is the moment someone knocks on his door. Biting back a curse, he walks stiffly to the door and stands back.

"You look like shit," is the first thing out of Bones' mouth.

"Come on, then. Lets get you into bed," is the second.

Jim scrapes together the energy to smirk. "No lecture?"

"I'm not wasting my breath on a man who's two seconds away from falling on his ass. Now sit."

Jim does, and to his surprise, Bones kneels down between his legs and sets about pulling off Jim's boots.

"You don't have to do that."

"Maybe not, but I get the feeling you'd fall asleep with them on if I didn't." Bones reaches up for Jim's waistband and flatly ignores the way Jim waggled his eyebrows. "Lift up for me. Thank you. Now lift your arms."

Free of his uniform, Jim lets out a sigh and falls back onto his bed.

Bones gets to his feet with a huff. "Go to sleep, would you, Captain? You've earned it."

"Where are you going?" Jim asks, suddenly afraid Bones won't be staying.

"I'm not sleeping in my uniform, Jim. The speculation about us is raunchy enough as is. I don't intend to fuel the fire."

That's all right, then. So long as Bones is nearby, Jim can sleep.


End file.
